


Perhaps

by Marylittlelamb



Category: Bitten (TV)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Not Beta Read
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-12-07 10:23:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11621595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marylittlelamb/pseuds/Marylittlelamb
Summary: Jeremy Danvers thought he'd known the trajectory his life would go after becoming Alpha. Perhaps, he'd been wrong... about so many things.





	Perhaps

It started after Antonio died. I’m not sure when things changed, progressing from leader to lover. 

I’ve known him since he was a child. I’d watched him grow from a precocious, outgoing little boy into a tall, muscular, and confident young man. As he’d ventured from one activity to another, he had never lost that sense of innocence and light. Something my own father had beaten out of me before I even knew how precious it was. 

He was my best friend’s son. I’ve always loved him. But, I’d never seen him as more than that.

Clay was my son, in every way that mattered. And that hadn’t changed, my paternal feelings towards him grew stronger with time, not less, like with Nick. 

Perhaps, it was always there; this thing between us. At least since he had entered adulthood. Then, he had gone from being content at home to restlessly trying to find his way in the world. Antonio was patient, as always, giving advice or encouragement when needed. Looking back, I’d never asked about the details, never questioned his parenting. Nick was the loveable goof we looked to for laughter in dark days and fiercely protected in even darker ones. 

And yet… Something else had been there for awhile now. He was the reason I’d finally stepped up to my father. Malcolm had gone after Nick after he’d made some offhand remark, as 19-year-olds are prone to do. Until that day, Malcolm had never struck any other occupant of the house but myself. And it was the last day that he would ever do so.

So much happened so quickly, it was hard to see what actually changed and why. 

I think it was death that shattered the way things were.

As my oldest friend lay dying on a dirty kitchen table, it was Nick’s gaze that I’d had difficulty meeting. I was letting him down, letting them both down. A hospital was out of the question. Yet, he’d pleaded for me to take his father there anyway. He was begging for his father’s life. But, I couldn’t do it. And the pain in his eyes had sliced through me sharper than the girl’s blade ever could. He had never asked me for anything. Because his father had always been there, a steady, thick Redwood tree in the torrential storm. 

The storm destroyed the tree that night. It left a void of life that had been there for such a very long time. The emptiness had cloyed at me. It was suffocating Nick. Unlike me, he had never lived in a world that didn’t have his father in it. 

Things were happening so quickly.

The poison leeched at my heart and all I could think about were my regrets. How can life happen so quickly and, yet, we move so slowly? For all of our knowledge that our time on this planet is finite, we put off so much for another day. Clay deserved a peaceful life, Elena a normal one. Neither were apt to get what they deserved because of the choices I’ve made. I’d made Clay the Pack Enforcer. I’d forced Clay’s hand with her. I’d made the choice to pull over to help the girl. I’d let Antonio die rather than take him to a hospital. I’d forced Nick into a responsibility he’d never wanted.

That night, as Elena’s blood soared through my veins, pushing out the toxin, I lay in bed with my regrets. We were in a war I hadn’t seen coming. We had lost people we would never see again. I was failing in the one job I couldn’t; leader, protector.

That night, Nick had crawled into my bed and changed everything. He hadn’t knock, hadn’t hesitated. I’d watched as he walked slowly to my side. He had reeked of grief, fear, and loneliness. It had made my insides churn. Yours. Pack. Protect.

I’d nodded, answering a question he hadn’t voiced. He’d swallowed, not quite meeting my eyes and laid down beside me. I hadn’t known what to expect, perhaps sleeping close together for a warmth our bodies didn’t need but our souls were aching for. I hadn’t expected the rest.

He’d turned onto his side, close to me, and had nuzzled my shoulder. I’d moved my arm under him, pulling him into my chest. Looking back, I’d misread what he’d meant. 

He’d snuggled into my side, resting his head high up on my shoulder. His long arm had gingerly rested on my side, careful of the wound that was well on its way to disappearing forever. The cost of that cut would scar far deeper into my soul. 

My left hand had drifted up to delicately trace the soft hair and hard muscle of his forearm. The strength in his arm could crush tendon and bone like a cat playfully swatting a toy mouse. At times, it’s a wonder to me how humans don’t see the subtle differences in our appearance. The preternatural stealth in our walk, the barely-concealed fierceness in our eyes. Perhaps, they don’t want to see the truth. They don’t want to know that the supernatural walk among them.

My reverie was cut short when I’d felt him lean up and kiss my throat. 

It had been a gentle press of lips against my skin, a ghost of a sensation. My arm had tightened around him briefly. Other than that, I hadn’t moved. It could have been a simple gesture of affection, like the brief kisses he had placed on Elena’s cheek so often before.

But, the second kiss had been firmer, filled with less hesitation and more intent. The third had been open-mouthed, a warm tongue darting out to graze the delicate skin. I’d let out a ragged breath, the wet warmth of his mouth sending an unexpected charge of arousal sizzling through my veins.

My voice had held neither encouragement or condemnation. “Nick.” 

He had kissed a trail of fire up my neck, pausing to nuzzle the skin there. The wolf inside of me had welcomed the intimate touch, trusting him there because he was pack. By the time he’d bitten lightly on my chin, I had been more turned on than confused, more desperate than logical. 

“Nick-” He’d cut off my question, pressing his lips onto mine. The touch had felt foreign, the light stubble he hadn’t shaved off that morning brushing against my face. Of all the men and women I’d kissed, it had never felt like this. This touch had felt new and yet familiar, like running your fingers over an old shirt you haven’t worn in years. 

I’d moved my right hand up to thread through the softness of his hair as I’d kissed him back. He’d moaned into my mouth, the reverberations making my mouth tingle. I’d felt the tease of his tongue at the edge of my lips, hesitant. I’d opened my mouth, my hand pulling his head closer, pulling him closer. It had been my turn to moan into the kiss, get lost in the feel of something new and terrifying.

The kiss had sent shockwaves through my body, curls of arousal warming my groin. The ‘Why’s,’ the reasons why we shouldn’t do this seemed farther and farther away, a sailboat cut from its rope at shore, drifting away into the endless sea. Every lick, moan, and tightening of his grip on my shirt had chipped away at my curiosity and intensified my need for more. 

He’d pulled away suddenly to gasp for air and the momentary pause had sobered me somewhat.

“Nick.”

He’d looked at me, his blue eyes turned black in the dark of the room. Or maybe it was arousal, the scent of it thick in the air around us. Or maybe they’d reflected the loss that had permeated his very core lately. I had been able to smell the loneliness, again. The fear and grief, so alien to what usually surrounded him.

He’d leaned down to kiss me, but my grip had tightened in his hair. His eyes had widened and I’d filed that away for later. Even then, I’d known there would be a later. 

I’d sighed. “Nick…”

Are you alright? What do you need? Are you sure? Why now?

But, I hadn’t spoken the words, unsure of where to start. And afraid that he would want to stop. Afraid that he wouldn’t. 

And, in that moment, he’d looked frightened. Later, I would guess that he’d been scared of rejection, of having risked more in a time when he’d already lost so much. But, I’d needed some kind of answer.

“Please, Jeremy.” A whispered plea, as delicate as leaf balancing on the surface of the water. 

Nick had never been fragile. Funny, light-hearted, and somewhat insecure, but never breakable. His voice had never sounded brittle, full of devastation he couldn’t comprehend and isolation he couldn’t name. Everything about this was new to him, but me. 

He had wanted me. Not just an Alpha and leader, but as someone more intimate. He had wanted a connection deeper than being Pack. He had wanted the comfort that could only arise from warm, wet kisses and an instinct older than all of us. I couldn’t heal his pain or protect him from what was coming. But, I could prove to him that he wasn’t alone, that he was loved. That he belonged.

With the strength that comes from being an Alpha, I had flipped us over, pinning him down onto the bed. My side had sent a strong twinge of pain, but I’d ignored it. Wide eyes had stared up at me, as startled as a fawn that I had hunted in the forest last Spring. I had pressed my body down on his, feeling the hard angles of his body collide with mine in a way that had left me lightheaded. 

He’d gasped and I’d kissed him, my tongue gliding into his mouth to taste him again. My cock hardened as he ground his erection against my thigh, his arms coming up to grasp my shirt, pulling me closer. Clothes had been shredded and torn, discarded for heated skin.

The next few hours were a blur of desperate touches, animalistic instincts, and kisses I had gotten lost in. Every time we had finished, sated and sweaty on the sheets, one of us had reached out, to start the cycle anew. It had been a different type of desperation, like being under water and coming up for air. 

As the early morning light of a new day crept across the dimness of the room, we had settled down beside each other. My body had felt heavy and relaxed, as though I’d run for miles. Nick had curled up against my side, mimicking the pose he had been in before. I’d run my fingers through the sweaty strands of his hair, wondering what he must look like. Briefly, I’d wondered if he’d let me paint him like this, warm and sleepy. Perhaps next time.

He’d reached out and touched my side, his fingers ghosting over the wound’s rough edges. I’d sensed the sudden change then, the leak of fear into his otherwise contented state. It was like poking a tiny hole in an oversized balloon, small but powerful. 

I’d grabbed his hand and pressed a light kiss to his knuckles, then his palm, then the inside of his wrist. He’d shivered and I’d kissed his hair, the drying sweat smelling like the forest. He’d pulled his hand out of my grasp and laid it over my heart, his fingers curling slightly.

I’d sighed and pulled him closer. We’d had a few hours to sleep and then I would call Koenig. 

 

That was when things changed. Or had settled into how they should have been. It’s hard to reconcile. 

Now, I stood in a house drenched in the blood of wolves. Bodies littered the floors, staining the wood with their violence forever. My father left through the front door, dragging with him everything in me that I had built up since I’d beaten him all those years ago. 

We’d won.

But, it still felt as though we’d lost. Like, we’d lost something here today.

I stared after the trail my father’s disgust left on the floor. A muffled shout, I think it was my name, sounded from the top of the stairs. I’d barely registered it.

I startled when strong arms wrapped around me, the scent of the woods and pine needles filled my senses. A familiar weight settled around me and I pulled Nick closer to me, his face crushed against the side of my neck. I breathed him in, needing the vitality of his life, his love, to fill the empty space Malcolm had just left. 

He was shaking. Or, perhaps, that was me. 

Death had never felt so close at our door, in our home. And Its recent visits had left us achingly aware of the price of loss.

But, the Pack was alive. He was alive. I was alive. Perhaps, that would be enough for now.

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta'd. Sorry guys.   
> My first roll with these guys but their chemistry and possibility were too much to ignore.


End file.
